


Obligation

by celestial_light



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Closure, Gen, Slight Russingon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 11:06:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14079534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestial_light/pseuds/celestial_light
Summary: "Did you hate me?" Elwing asked hesitantly, clearly afraid of the answer.Elrond looked away, closing his eyes as he sighed.“We did,” Elrond admitted, almost ashamed, “As children...we hadn’t understood your sacrifice, and as we grew we let that anger….we let it mold us. I am now glad to say that I was wrong. And if Elros were here, he would agree.”“I’m glad,” his mother said in relief, clearing your throat, “overjoyed, actually.”OrIn Valinor, Elrond confronts his mother and receives the closure he needed. But not everything last forever, especially when it concerns Lord Elrond.





	Obligation

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in two hours. I also started at like...11pm, so there's bound to be some mistakes. I proofed it, but barely. Some of this is based on my own experience or reconnecting with a lost parent :D So enjoy, feel fee to leave a comment and a kudos!

Elrond takes his leave shortly before noon, when the sun is at her highest, and when the others are less likely to notice his absence. Celebrian had began readying herself for the market, to preoccupied in arranging her sculptures into her wagon to realize Elrond sneaking out. She was to meet with Lady Nerdanel that day, where they and their students would no doubt be the center of attention. 

He had carefully avoided the hobbits, bypassing their newest construction project about a mile away from his home. It was far too hot for the halflings to be above ground now anyway, but nevertheless, the elven lord had moved across the ground softly, not wanting their sensitive ears to hear his walking above the ground (and if he was being completely honest with himself, there were  _ certain  _ to be elves underneath as well, helping the hobbits dig deeper holes). 

Navigating through the marketplace was too easy. Of course when Celebrian and Nerdanel had managed to entrance the majority of elven society entranced by their newest pieces, it was to be expected. Nevertheless it gave Elrond the chance to speed through the bustling crowd undetected. 

It was much harder when he had made it to the coast though,  for the teleri had always been quite homely and hospitable, inviting any and every creature that had found themselves on the sandy shore into their homes. For this reason, Elrond made good use of his hood. They would make a fuss, of course. Every elf and their mother would attempt to drag Elrond into their homes, thier personality not allowing anything less. 

That, and there was Maglor.

He lived with is wife on the shore, and spent the majority of his day sleeping in the sand, or lending a hand to those elves who still sought to rebuild their lives on the sea. Alqualondë hadn’t  just been a fleet of boats, it had been an entire society. The teleri made a living on the sea, their boats and rafts akin to the fortresses and homes on the mainland. Years after the first Kinslaying, and they were still rebuilding. 

Maglor helped when he could, though his inexperience had inadvertently led to the sinking of more boats (“You’re supposed to be a son of Feanor,”  Olwe had told him once, arms crossed as he stood on the bird’s nest of the sinking ship that Maglor had attempted to build, “How can you not know how to build something so simple?”). When fowl play had been ruled out,  and the teleri were convinced that Maglor hadn’t tried to sabotage them, he’d been downgraded to working on smaller boats. 

Needless to say, he was always on the coast, and Elrond would like very much to avoid him. 

The Feanorian would not approve of his visit to Lady Elwing. Not now, at least. And Elrond would very much  _ not  _ like to be talked out of this, no matter  _ how  _ Maglor felt about it. It wasn’t up to him, not anymore. 

Though if he were completely honest with himself, his nerves would have been less excite had he sought counsel with Maglo first, even if they  _ did  _ disagree with the outcome. For all his shortcomings, he could offer helpful advice when it came to it. In all honesty, most of the sons of Feanor could, that was one of their redeeming qualities. However, they were not good at listening to it. 

Maedhros had been particularly bad at that, chasting the twins from engaging in any unnecessary brawls with the few orcs they had encountered over their childhood, only to charge into a small legion of them on his own. The elven Lord couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he remembered that, the mere thought lightening his rather anxious mood. 

He hoped that parental love he felt from Maedhros and Maglor extended to his mother.  Eru, he hoped for it. To heal what had been taken from them both and to laugh at the new memories he created with her. More than anything, Elrond wanted that, he  _ yearned  _ for it. 

And he hoped that she did too. 

\---

The walk had ended to soon for his liking. 

He’d lost track of  the time as he mentally ran over things he’d ask her, things to say to her. He’d been overwhelmed at a point, deeply saddened at another, as he wondered what his brother would have wanted to know, and pleasantly shocked when his the ground beneath him had shifted from sand to white cobblestone. 

Elrond stopped in his tracks, gaze traveling upward towards the sky, where Elwing’s tower scraped the clouds. It was certainly intimidating, a nightmare for those who feared heights. But Elrond was his mother’s son, and an eager one at that. He didn’t waste his time, walking towards the door and striking it hard three times.   

When there was no immediate answer, he tried again, too quickly and too vigorously perhaps, as the servant who yanked the door open gave him a look of agitation that nearly chilled his bones. It was a well practiced look, too. Those grey eyes peering into his soul, as a school governess’ did when she chastised rowdy students. And with her dark hair tied up in a bun, coupled with her dark garments, Elrond wouldn’t have been surprised if she was just that. 

“I’m here to see Lady Elwing,” Elrond announced plainly, already perapring for a snide remark. 

The governess’ glare hardened, an arch brow nearly framing her hairline, “And you are?” 

There it was. 

The half elf sighed. The moment was now, there was no going back from here. 

“I am her son, Elrond Peredhel.” 

At that, the governess paled and her eyes widened. She brought a hand to her mouth in utter shock, muffling her gasp as she looked the man over. She then trembled, shook like a leaf in the wind. And then she broke. 

Elrond nearly fell backwards when she threw her arms around him, enveloping him in a bone crushing hug. 

“My lady,” Elrond managed, though his breathing constricted, “I’m afraid you must release me, for I cannot breath.” 

“Of course, of course,” she breathed through tears, all too enthusiastically, “I have gotten ahead of myself, Elrond.”    
  
The half elf smiled, straightening his robes out and adjusting his diadem just slightly. She near knocked him out, her strength rivaling that of Celebrian. 

“It is no concern, my lady,” Elrond assured her, “Though I must inquire once again about the whereabouts of lady Elwing. I must sp--” 

“Quite, Elrond,” she silenced him with a stern finger to his lips, and the rough, calloused tips stood out to him. She was a hardworking woman, that he could certainly tell. Though her trade, he was uncertain of. 

“My lady,” Elrond inquired, “ I m-” 

“I am Elwing.” She stated, “I am your mother.” 

His world froze then, and his mind went blank. Utterly blank. His words and questions gone with the wind, preconceived ideas and thoughts gone with them. Whatever image he had perceived of Elwing, the pompous, Silmaril taunting wretch that Elros had joked about in their youth, dissolved into thin air. 

The woman with tears dancing on her lashes, grey eyes swimming with emotion, and gentle finger on his lips, shushing him just as she must have done when he was an infant, this was mother.

And he cried just as he must have years ago, and she shushed him just the same. 

\---

They talked for hours. He told her  _ everything,  _ from what he could remember all the way until the present day. She lamented the loss of their childhood, and loathed the time that had been stolen from her. When he spoke of Elros, her eyes grew larger, and she snorted at the funny parts (a trait they had all believed exclusive to Elros), and cried at the sad parts. She offered her own stories, retold her horror at throwing her body into the waves, and being consumed by the water. 

“I was dead,” she explained nonchalantly, as she took a bite of the tea biscuit on the table, “I had to have been. My head connected with the rocks and split,” she used her hands make a slapping motion, animedtly illustrating her demise, “Lord Ulmo saved me, sent me to the waves to meet your father.” 

Elrond exhaled into his tea cup, letting the steam blow around as he slowly settled it back onto the table. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Elrond apologized, “it seems horrifying.” 

“It was worth it,” Elwing stated, “without it, we wouldn’t be sitting here today. If I hadn’t made it your father, then the world would have been cast into darkness.”

Elrond smiled, “And I am grateful for that, everyday.” It was a tight smile. Elwing was a wonderful woman, and everything Elrond would have wanted in a mother. He saw so much of Elros in her, that it was eerie, almost as if his brother was sitting across from him again. 

“Elrond, my son?” Elwing began, her tone patronizing as she sensed his change in mood, “Is everything alright?” 

“Of course, Mother,” he responded, “I just would have loved to grow up with you, I would have loved Elros to see you as well. He would have loved you...for the longest time we had such conflicting thoughts about you. But no doubt, he would have been pleased, proven wrong, even.” 

“Conflicting thoughts,” Elwing repeated, almost distantly, then said, “Did they teach you to hate us...did you hate me?” Elwing asked, hesitantly, clearly afraid of the answer. 

Elrond looked away, closing his eyes as he sighed. 

“We did,” Elrond admitted, almost ashamed, “As children...we hadn’t understood your sacrifice, and as we grew we let that anger….we let it mold us. I am now glad to say that I was wrong. And if Elros were here, he would agree.” 

“I’m glad,” his mother said in relief, clearing your throat, “overjoyed, actually.” 

Elrond smiled, leaning over the table, and gently squeezing his mother’s hand, “As am I.” 

He made to continue, but the pressure in his head had begged to differ. Celebrian must have finished in the market already, and either required his presence at home, or required his help in cleaning at the market. 

“I must take my leave now,” he stood, “My wife requires my presence.” 

“And my husband requires mine,” she returned, casting her gaze towards the darkening sky, “And you must bring her around.”    
  
“Trust me,” Elrond said, “I’d love to.” 

They hugged, both reluctant to let the other go, but duty prevented the embrace from lasting for eternity. Elwing crossed the distance to the open window, and Elrond stood not far from her, wondering if he’d get to see the exact moment in which she transformed into a bird. 

“Before you go,” Elrond called to her, “I just...want to say thank you. Thank you for allowing me to experience this...this closure.” 

“I would like to say the same,” Elwing returned, genuinely touched, “and thank you for understanding my choices, understanding why I had to leave you and your brother.” 

“Of course, Mother,” Elrond acknowledged, “I forgave you a long time ago.” 

Elwing stopped short, her expresion unreadable. 

“Forgave?” She inquired, almost in disbelief, “I have done nothing wrong.” 

Elrond blinked profusely, unsure of what on Earth he was hearing. He could understand her choices, but he could not excuse the pain it caused he and his brother. 

“I mean no offence,” he began, raising his hands in defense, “ But you left my brother and I  alone by a well. When we were found, Magor had managed to save Elros just before he fell into the deep end. There were wolves not a mile away that could have eaten us. And that’s just the beginning of it.” 

Elwing had clearly taken offense, whether Elrond had intended for her to or not. Her face contorted into a hurt expression, and she hopped from her step on the sill, so that she stood closer to him. 

“What was I supposed to do? Take you with me?” She asked, her inflection rising, “You would have died with me  in those waves.” 

“Evacuation would have been nice,” suggested the Lord, maintaining his godly calm, “We would have been safe with family.” 

“And where would I have sent you?” Snapped the Elleth, quite agitated, “there was no one...not for miles.” 

Elrond jolted slightly, not expecting the harsh tone. She looked at him apologetically, almost aware that the situation was being ruined. Neither spoke for a short second, Elrond giving Elwing a chance to calm herself before he continued. 

“But you knew they were coming, you had years to plan,” Elrond explained, “They came for you as a girl, logically they would have come to you--” 

“I’ve heard this from your father, I refuse to hear the same for you,” Elwing hissed, “I looked at all the options, none would have sufficed. Had you been in my situation, you would have done the same.”    
  
Had the situation not been so dire, Elrond would have doubled over in laughter. That hobbit digging holes on his property was a staunt reminder of exactly what situation he was in. 

“Oh mother, I was very much in your situation,” Elrond raised his voice now, “When the One was brought into Imladris, I never entertained the idea of keeping it. Not for all the temptation it bestowed upon me. I would never risk my people, I would never risk my children. I would have returned it to them.” 

“Of course you say that,” she drew out, sarcastically, “Give it back to them? Never! They raised you as their sons, so I’m not surp--”    
  
“This has nothing to do with them,” Elrond snapped back, “Do not change the subject. As my mother and as the ruler of refugees, you should have put their safety above your own! You  should have done what was best for your people, for  _ me.  _ But you ran with the Jewel that brought down Doriath, you ran with the Jewel that destroyed Sirion, you ran with it while our people  _ died.  _ You let your lust for some ro--”    
  
“Lies!” Cried Elwing, eyes burning to the brim with tears, “Without my deeds, Morgoth would have still ruled Arda. You said it yourself th-” 

“Please,” Elrond cut her off, “You had no way of knowing that before you jumped into the ocean. You weren’t being a hero, you were being selfish.”

He had struck a chord with that. The look of utter devastation on her face a testament to that. 

“Leave,” she said, cooly, the governess persona befalling her once more. 

“I have no intention of staying, My Lady,” Elrond sneered, turning on his heels, “and I have no intention of returning.” 

He left before she could respond, though he doubted she had anything worth listening to say. 

\-----

He wasn’t even surprised that his body had automatically set it’s course for the sea shore,  his internal radar managing to locate Maglor almost immediately. He found the man laying in the sand, letting the setting sun bathe his skin. 

Until Elrond stood in the way, of course. 

“My son, you know I love you, but I’ve been working in doors all day,” he groaned, slightly agitated, “I haven’t been able to soak up the sun as much as I wanted to. So please, move.” 

When the figure refused to move, Maglor groaned, and allowed one grey eye to crack open. Upon seeing the wreck of a Lord that stood above him however, he jumped to his feet in record timing.  

“Elrond,” He enveloped the younger elf gently, rubbing gentle circles in his back as he began to sob, “What’s wrong. Did something happen? Are you okay?”    
  
“I met  _ her. _ ” Elrond drew out, shakily, “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you, but--” 

“Shh, shh Elrond,” Maglor cooed softly, “You have nothing to apologize for, nothing at all.” 

“I thought...I thought so many things,” He laughed darkly, hiccuping through tears, “and...Elros was...he was right….you were right, I should….I should have waited.” 

They stood there for what seemed like hours, though it was much shorter than that. Maglor had hummed to him, hummed a gentle tune that he’d used when the twins would cry as babies. It had soothed the elven Lord, given him a chance recollect himself. 

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Maglor consoled, gently. 

“Not now, at least,” Elrond sniffled. 

“When you’re ready,” Maglor reitarted. 

Elrond smiled, sadly, “When I’m ready.” 

After another lingering embrace, Elrond pulled away and smiled. Maglor always made him feel content. 

“Would you come home with me tonight?” Elrond began, nervously, “Celebrian would love to have your company. You can invite your wife too. I know you’re both busy with the boats, but it’s been so long since I’ve had you over….and it would be nice.” 

_ And I need you,  _ that unspoken plea did not go unheard by Maglor. Regardless of what activities he had committed himself to tonight, he would not turn Elrond away. 

“I will go with you,” Maglor said, “But Lithrael will not be joining us tonight, as she and my father have taken to a new design.”

“Feanor?” Elrond asked, shocked, “He’s here?”    
  
“Unfortunately, yes,” Maglor feigned sadness, “I have been temporarily removed from the job, again. Olwe had to swim back to shore, and boasted my shortcomings to the entire world. Not wanting me to soil my family’s reputation anymore, my father offered to replace me. He's dedicated at least a thousand years after his rebirth to rebuilding the boats, and I suppose they wanted him again. He’s making their boats move on their own now, so I’m no help there.” 

“Then let us go,” Elrond said, the mirth in his voice quite evident, “Before you ruin another boat.” 

“Perhaps we could pluck my turnip head brother from the hobbit hole,” Maglor jested, “And his partner in crime may come with him.” 

“The hobbits might join us then as well,” Elrond smiled, “They’d love to hear your singing, Bilbo especially.” 

“And i’d love to sing for him,” Maglor responded, “It’s been a while since I’ve sung for anyone other than the Teleri.” 

Together, they walked off of the shore, chatting all the way to Elrond’s home. Before Elrond knew it, the encounter with Lady Elwing had dissolved into the back of his mind, and he was at peace. 

**Author's Note:**

> As someone who’s situation is similar to Elrond, I think I hit the nail on the head :D There’s the contrite phase, and then the excuses phase, and then the phase where you go talk to someone who’s been there the entire time. Honestly you don’t have to connect with a lost parent or even forgive them, you trick yourself into thinking they care. That said, I relate to Elrond so much :D Again, leave your comments and kudos!O


End file.
